


Food For The Soul

by veronamay



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Banter, Gen, M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-30
Updated: 2006-08-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 21:04:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veronamay/pseuds/veronamay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen’s filming <i>Ten Inch Hero</i>, and he misses Jared.  A late-night phone conversation ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Food For The Soul

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to see if I could write jsquared genfic. I almost managed it, and then Jensen went all schmoopy on me. Bastard.
> 
> Beta-read by the fabulous [](http://lemmealone.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lemmealone.livejournal.com/)**lemmealone**.  
> 

Jensen held out for almost two weeks before he called Jared. It pissed him off that he gave in so quickly, too. He'd had a private bet going with himself: could he get through all six weeks of this shoot without being a codependent loser? By dialling Jared's cell he was officially losing that bet, and now he had to wash and wax his car on Saturday instead of getting it detailed.

That didn't stop him feeling relieved when Jared picked up on the second ring.

"Jensen?"

"I'm dying of boredom," he announced. "I hid all my candy so nobody would steal it, but nobody's even looked and now I can't remember where I put it all. And nobody's pranking, like, at _all_ and nobody's called me 'bitch' or 'hoss' or anything but 'Jensen' even _once_ , and if I have to put up with another whole month of all this niceness I think I'm going to bite someone's pinky off."

He stopped there because he needed to breathe and Jared was laughing too much to listen anyway. He ignored the warm feeling expanding in his chest and the grin on his face, and waited.

"I miss you too, man," Jared said finally, laughter still edging his voice.

"I mean it, Jared. Everyone's so fuckin' sweet to me I think I'm going to end up a diabetic. I don't think these guys even know what a prank _is_."

"Want me to come out there and sew all your socks together?"

"Oh God, would you? That would be fantastic," Jensen said in perfect sincerity, and Jared laughed again even though he was totally serious. But it was okay; just the offer made him feel better. More _normal_. Which was pretty weird, because since when did he look forward to being punked by anyone, much less Jared?

But whatever; he was too happy now to think about it. Jensen sank down on the couch in Steve's living room, glad to have the place to himself. He didn't think about the fact that it was Friday night, and any other guy in LA would be out trying to hook up. He was fine right here.

"What've you been doing?" he asked, toeing off his shoes and swinging his legs onto the couch. "Wait – I don't even know where you are. Are you busy? Should I call back?"

"Relax," Jared told him, and Jensen could almost hear him smiling. "I'm at my folks'. They're out – bridge night or something – and I'm just sittin' here kicking back." He chuckled, the sound hitting Jensen's ear and travelling to every corner of his body. "You saved me from having to watch TV."

Huh. Strange – Jared loved TV. Except when – oh. Jensen smirked.

"What channel is it on?"

"Fuck off, man, I'm not saying."

"I'll just surf until I find it. Come on, man, you can't expect me to pass up a Gilmore Girls marathon. You were so damn cute."

"I am not gonna help you have a laugh at my expense, you fucker."

Jared's tone belied the words; he was warm and relaxed and Jensen couldn't stop smiling just listening to him. The teasing was mandatory, the intent nonexistent. Even if Jared had been a hotass piece of jailbait in his teens.

"It's really that bad?" Jared asked now, and Jensen sighed and closed his eyes, nestling the phone in between his neck and shoulder.

"Not really. It's just not like," _home_ , he almost said, and wow, that was a new one, "our set. I guess I'm just used to your juvenile toilet humour. And Eric's particular brand of evil."

"Aw, you say the sweetest things."

"Shut up, bitch."

"See?"

Jensen laughed, and the last of the ball of (not homesickness, no) stress in his stomach melted away. Jared was like that; he could cheer just about anyone up whether they wanted it or not, and then he made it impossible for anyone to hate him. Something about the smile, Jensen thought idly. Or the eyes. Or both. Whatever; Jared was like a walking Happy Meal without the calories.

"So what have you been doing?" Jensen asked. "I'm curious. I'm out here working my ass off to pay the bills and you're – what, swanning around at home mooching off your folks? Shame on you, man."

"Bite me," Jared said comfortably. "My mama guilted me into comin' back for a spell and then when I got here she set me to rebuilding the back fence. My hands are all over splinters because I forgot my gloves the first day and now the little fuckers won't come out."

Jensen nearly choked on his laughter.

"Don't laugh at me, Jensen! You know how hard it is to jerk off with a splinter the size of Rhode Island in your palm?"

Jensen dropped the phone and buried his face in a cushion, howling. Ignoring the flare of warmth in his stomach, because – no. Just no.

"I hate you," Jared said when he picked up the phone again, still hiccupping. "And I'm plotting a horrible, painful demise for you. Just so you know."

"I'm terrified." Jensen trembled on the edge of laughter again, but fought it back. "So, what, you've been out there all this time?"

"Pretty much. I stopped off in LA for a couple days to see Sandy, but she was busy making the rounds for new jobs, so I came back here."

Jensen was silent. He and Jared didn't discuss what Jensen privately called The Sandy Situation, mostly because Jared somehow knew that Jensen didn't like his girlfriend, but was reluctant to come out and say it. He braced himself to talk about it now, though. He knew that tone in Jared's voice, and it always killed him to hear it.

"Hey," he said, "don't sweat it, Jared. You know it's tough trying to get a gig in that town. She didn't brush you off, right?"

"No." Jared sighed. "No, she was fine. It was just – I kind of felt like I was in the way, you know? Like when I was fifteen and my arms and legs were half a foot longer than everyone else's and I kept bumping into things. It made me nervous."

"Dude, your arms and legs are still half a foot longer than everyone else's and you still bump into things," Jensen shot back. "What else is new?"

"Ass." Jared laughed, quieter this time. "I'm being stupid, aren't I?"

"Kinda," Jensen agreed. "Look, man, Sandy's nuts about you, right? Anyone can see that. She's not going to mess up what you guys have just to get some crappy audition for some crappy role in a crappy film that'll make absolutely nothing and go straight to video on release. She's smarter than that."

Jensen sounded totally sincere even to himself. He wondered how he could say all that and not choke on it, because seriously? He thought Sandy was an idiot. Anyone who scored a catch like Jared ought to hold onto him with both hands, even if that meant moving to Vancouver. There was just as much work in Canada as in LA these days. But he was damned if he'd ever say that aloud, because Jared was beating himself up already about their being apart all the time, and he didn't need Jensen's opinion to make him feel worse.

"I guess."

"You guess?"

"All right, _mom_ ," Jared mocked him, "I know. Okay? Pep talk over. I'm good."

"Are you?" Jensen asked, wanting to be sure.

"Yeah, I am. Thanks, Jen." Jared's voice flowed through the phone line like honey. "And don't worry; I'll still respect you in the morning."

"Oh sure, that's what you always say." Jensen sighed. "And then you never call, you never write, you never send me flowers ..."

"No, but I do sneak into your trailer and superglue all your cupboard doors closed," Jared pointed out. "I don't do that to just anyone, you know."

"Point taken. And did I remember to say fuck you very much for that, by the way?"

"You're welcome, princess."

"Oh, you are so getting burned for that. Princess? I'll whip your ass next time I see you."

"You wish," Jared said, and Jensen bit his tongue to stop himself from answering. Because there were times when he kind of _did_ \- but oh, he was so not going there. Ever.

There was an awkward pause then, while Jensen fumbled the conversational ball. He could feel Jared thinking, and he hurried to say something to fill the gap before he made a total fool of himself.

"Wanna come hang out here for a while?" he asked, and instantly wanted to kick himself. Welcome to Codependent Losers R Us, with offices in Dallas, Vancouver and Los Angeles (CEO: Jensen Ackles).

"I can't, man," Jared said. "I've got a thing in Vegas next week. I'm meeting up with Mike in a couple days and we're heading down there together. Otherwise I'd be out there bugging you already. I _miss_ your ugly face, Jen."

"Yeah." Jensen knew he was supposed to zing back, but Jared's voice was a little too soft, a little too warm, and he just couldn't. "Only a month, right?"

"A month," Jared agreed. "And then Europe, man. I've never been to Norway. Hey, you think we could stop over in Amsterdam?"

"Hell, no. I'm not letting you anywhere near the place." But Jensen was laughing again, feeling light as a feather even as he sank deeper into the couch, and he knew he was being kind of an idiot about this whole thing but hell if it didn't feel like he was on a phone date here. With Jared. And it didn't faze him for a second.

"What time is it?" Jared asked, and Jensen looked at his watch and winced.

"Shit. After midnight. And I have an early call." He rubbed a hand over his face. "I better go."

"Okay. You over your little prima donna shitfit?"

"Sure. You done with your little passive-aggressive 'nobody loves me' tantrum?"

"Uh-huh." Jared yawned in his ear. "Okay, enough bullshit. You good?"

"I'm good." Jensen paused, swallowed hard. "Good night, Jared."

"'Night, Jen. Sleep well."

"... I'll most likely kill you in the morning," they chanted together, and Jensen hung up on Jared laughing again, which was the best sound ever to take into sleep.

The next morning he woke up still on Steve's couch, drooling into the cushions, the phone still clenched in his hand. There was a message on the answering machine and his alarm was shrieking at him from the guest bedroom.

" _Okay, I got two days in between catching up with Mike and going back to see Sandy,_ " Jared's voice told him. " _I'll see you on the sixteenth. Make sure you clean house this time, bitch._ "

Jensen grinned and deleted the message, and didn’t even bother with coffee.

END


End file.
